


Love/Hate

by halloucinogens



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Football, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, High School, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Marching Band, Mildly Dubious Consent, only two I think, ryan hates brendon at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halloucinogens/pseuds/halloucinogens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I think I could fall in love with you, Ryan Ross.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love/Hate

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend who requested Ryan in the marching band and Brendon as the football star. Hope you like it. :)
> 
> *Edit 4/23/2017  
> Hello to anyone still reading this old, slightly cheesy fic that 17 year old me wrote! I recently decided to re-read this and was subsequently a) horrified at some of my cringe-worthy writing and b) regretful that I didn't make this story more detailed or continue it into something bigger. Reading it again, I'm visualizing so many possible sequel ideas. I have no idea if some semblance of a Ryden fandom even exists anymore, but please do let me know in the comments if anyone would enjoy a sequel to this story! Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

 

           The thing about Ryan is that he’s actually pretty content in the fact that he’ll never be noticed. Sure, he went through the whole, ‘maybe if I act like them, they’ll like me’ stage his freshman year, but after a miserable year with people he couldn’t stand, people that didn’t even really care about him, he’d decided that he didn’t care for popularity so much after all. His sophomore year, he met his best friend, Spencer, and they both joined the marching band as drummers. Yeah, Ryan knew that joining the band probably wasn’t the best way to get people to like him, but by then he didn’t really care. He’d found Spencer, and one true friend is better than a hundred fake friends any day.

          So, Ryan spent his sophomore year being mostly a loner at school. And it’s not even that people picked on him. It was more like nobody even knew he _existed_. He always thought that he’d rather be picked on. At least then people would acknowledge him. He even came out at school, expecting people to call him names, but nobody noticed. He didn’t want popularity; he just didn’t want to be invisible. So that’s what led Ryan to where he is today, at band practice on Halloween, halfway through his senior year. He’s exhausted; they’ve been practicing for three straight hours for the football game tonight, and they’re doing a special Halloween show that they _just_ learned the routine to a week ago. Honestly, Ryan doesn’t see why the game is so important. He’s never understood all the fuss. It’s a bunch of guys throwing a ball across a field. Ryan is not impressed.

          Finally, _finally_ their drum major, Patrick, announces that they’re finished, and that they need to be back here in exactly three hours for the game.

          “Thank God,” Pete, a saxophone player says. Patrick walks by and rolls his eyes at him, and Pete runs to catch up with him. “Thanks to _someone_ , we’re all probably going to die of dehydration,” he says pointedly in Patrick’s general direction.

          “Worth it,” Patrick shrugs. Ryan can hear them bickering back and forth as they walk farther away from him toward the band room.

          “Why don’t they just go and get married already?” Spencer appears beside Ryan, shaking his head fondly at the image of Pete waving his hands around wildly while he whines at Patrick.

          “It’s so obvious,” Ryan agrees.

          “Hey, d’you wanna go get some food?” Spencer asks as they make their way toward the band room to put away their instruments.

          “No, I’m really tired. I think I’m just gonna go home and do my homework so I can get it out of the way,” Ryan declines.

          “Oh, okay. Want a ride home, then?” Spencer asks even though it’s a pointless question. He always gives Ryan a ride home.

  
          “Yeah,” Ryan half-smiles. He’s completely content with his life right now. He is, really.

 

  


* * *

 

          Ryan waves at Spencer from the front door of his house before he goes in and heads straight to his room. He doesn’t bother to see if his parents are home; he knows they aren’t. All they do is work, but that’s fine. Ryan likes being alone anyway.

          He begrudgingly gets out his homework and flops down into his desk chair, dreading all of the math problems he has. If it weren’t for the fact that he needs to keep his grades up if he ever wants to get a scholarship and get out of here, he wouldn’t even bother.

          He turns on his stereo and starts humming along with the music as he works. This is pretty much his regular Friday night routine. It’s not like he has anything else to do. Sometimes he’ll go home with Spencer after the football games, but usually he just comes home and watches movies, curled up on the couch, alone.

          He really just can’t wait to go to college.

  
          Once he’s finished his homework, he texts Spencer to make sure he’s picking him up for the game, and then he grabs the current book he’s reading - _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , for the tenth time - and he lies down on his bed, blocking everything else out for a few hours.

 

  


* * *

 

          “God, why is it so cold? It’s only the end of October,” Ryan whines to Spencer where they’re seated in the band section on the bleachers, watching the game and playing the appropriate music whenever someone gets a touchdown.

          “Yeah, and we’re in Nevada,” Spencer agrees with a disgruntled look on his face, huddling closer to Ryan. Ryan loves being in the band, but he hates having to sit through these games.

          The weird thing is that the marching band is actually kind of cool at their school. They aren’t classified as ‘band geeks’ or anything of the sort. They’re the best band of any school in their district, and their school takes pride in that. So again, Ryan still isn’t sure why nobody seems to notice him. Even though he’s made peace with it, that doesn’t mean he can’t still wonder what it would be like to have friends. To have the high school experience that he wishes he could have.

          He’s snapped out of his little reverie when the crowd jumps up and starts cheering madly. Ryan looks down to the field to see that their team has the ball, and one of the guys is running toward the opposite team’s end zone, about to get a touchdown. Ryan doesn’t even have to look at the guy’s number; he knows it’s Brendon Urie.

          Brendon Urie is quite possibly the most popular person in their school. Oh, Ryan’s definitely noticed him. He’s noticed him since they were freshmen and Brendon was the new kid. Ryan always thought he’d be one of the nice ones. He’s the best player on the football team; gets all the touchdowns. He’s tiny though, which is probably why he can run so fast. You can tell that he’s an asshole. You can just look at him, with his little tight-knit group of asshole friends, running around doing asshole things, and tell that he is, in fact, an asshole.

          Ryan hates him.

          So when everyone in the stands starts chanting his number and cheering when he makes the touchdown, Ryan kind of wishes that he was anywhere else. It isn’t fair that Brendon gets everything he wants. Everyone loves him, the teachers favor him, the girls fawn over him, and Ryan only gets one friend.

          It’s finally halftime, and the band rises out of their seats to go get changed while the other team’s band makes their way onto the field. Ryan hates the Halloween games, because the band teacher forces them to wear costumes during their performance. _Costumes_. This year Ryan is dressing as Link from Zelda, complete with the little hat and the boots and the plastic sword and everything. If he has to dress up he’s going to make sure he looks awesome. Spencer is dressed as a fucking banana, the idiot. Ryan can’t help but laugh when he sees him. They bought their costumes together, but the costume is so much funnier _on_ Spencer than it was in the store.

          “I know, I look amazing,” Spencer does a little turn, making Ryan laugh harder. “Oh, dude,” he says, taking in Ryan’s appearance, “Your costume actually does look kinda cool.”

          “Told you,” Ryan smirks.

          By the time everyone is dressed and ready, the other band is finished, so they start making their way out of the locker room. It’s right next to the one that the football guys use at halftime, so when they walk out, there are a few of them leaning against the wall, drinking Gatorade and doing whatever it is that football guys do.

          Ryan’s walking past when someone yells at him.

          “Hey, Link!” Ryan scrunches his nose and turns around to see none other than _Brendon Urie_ looking at him. Ryan raises his eyebrows, and Brendon smiles. “Nice costume,” he says, and Ryan can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. Then he wonders how Brendon Urie even knows who Link is. Football guys aren’t exactly the type to play Zelda.

  
          “Thanks,” Ryan sighs as he turns around and keeps walking, deciding to just ignore that whole occurrence. Spencer looks just as confused as Ryan feels, and Ryan just shrugs as he makes his way onto the field.

 

  


* * *

 

          The halftime show went well. It went fantastic, actually. Patrick walked off the field beaming, Pete right on his tail. Spencer pushes his bangs out of his eyes and grins at Ryan.

          “We’re so awesome. Look, they love us,” he nods to the crowd, who is indeed cheering for them.

          “Yeah,” Ryan agrees, smiling only a little. The football players are lined up along the fence, waiting for the band to walk off the field before they go back out. A hand sticks out and knocks Ryan’s shoulder when he’s making his way along, and he turns to see _him_ again.

          “You guys did awesome,” Brendon smiles, and Ryan just stares at him. Spencer nudges Ryan’s shoulder.

          “Uh, thanks,” he replies awkwardly, again not knowing if Brendon is being genuine. Ryan gives him a weird look before heading back to the locker room to change again.

          When they’re seated on the bleachers again, Spencer turns to Ryan.

          “I didn’t know you knew Brendon,” he tilts his head to the side.

          “I don’t,” Ryan frowns. “That’s the first time he’s ever spoken to me.”

          “Huh,” Spencer hums, looking confused.

          “I think he was making fun of me,” Ryan admits, shrugging.

          “He looked like he was being nice,” Spencer offers.

          “Yeah, but he probably just laughed with all his friends as soon as I walked off. Like I care anyway, I hate that guy,” Ryan scowls. Spencer gives him a sympathetic smile and goes back to watching the game.

          The rest of the game passes by quickly. Their team won, of course. They murdered the other team. 52-7. Spencer is chattering away to Ryan while they walk toward the parking lot to Spencer’s car.

          “And then I told her that she was insane and that was completely un-sexy, because really, who the fuck would dip body parts into chocolate anyway?” he rambles.

          “Yeah that’s really interesting, could you unlock the door so I don’t freeze to death?” Ryan asks.

          “You weren’t even listening to me,” Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Coming to my house?”

          “Nah, think I’ll stay home tonight,” Ryan turns down the offer. Spencer nods and gets in the car and unlocks Ryan’s door.

          “Later, Link!” Ryan hears called from behind him. He turns and sees Brendon unlocking the door to a nice-looking car, waving at Ryan. Ryan just nods confusedly and hops into Spencer’s car, shaking his head in disbelief. It’s like someone turned off the switch that makes Ryan unknown to the world.

  
          Ryan really fucking hates Brendon Urie.

 

  


* * *

 

          It’s Monday and Ryan is walking to school. His weekend went by the same as it always does. Books and movies. It was a nice weekend. He always walks to school in the mornings because it relaxes him. Now though, he wishes he would’ve taken Spencer up on his offer to drive him to school, because it’s cold. Ryan bundled up in a coat, boots, and scarves today.

          He walks into the school gates to see that there’s hardly anybody there. He’s really confused for a minute because it’s almost time for the bell to ring, but then he remembers that the senior and junior classes had planned on skipping today as celebration for their win on Friday, because that put the football team in the championship or some shit.

          He sighs and walks into the school, relishing as a wave of heat instantly hits him. He walks down the hall to his locker and he frowns when he sees that Spencer isn’t there like usual.

          Sometime during homeroom he gets a text from Spencer informing him that he decided to skip today as well. Ryan dreads having to eat lunch alone. He texts back, ‘ _thanks, asshole_ ’ and sulks from then on.

          There is hardly anyone there all day, and in his fourth period, he is literally the only student. The teacher gives him a sympathetic look like maybe he didn’t get the memo that everyone was skipping, and he _did_ , he just maybe forgot, and plus he didn’t want to miss school for no reason.

          By lunch time, Ryan is officially in a bad mood. He just wants to go home and sleep forever. He buys some fries and a bottle of water and goes to sit at his usual table outside. There are a few people there at various tables, but it’s almost empty. Apparently, the whole damn school decided not to come today.

          As he’s stabbing a fry with his fork viciously, someone sits in front of him. He’s confused because nobody ever sits here except for Spencer and himself. He looks up to see none other than fucking Brendon Urie. Ryan inwardly sighs, readying his face with a scowl.

          “Hi,” Brendon chirps. Ryan stares at him wide-eyed.

          “What are you doing?” he asks disbelievingly.

          “Eating, duh,” Brendon laughs, taking a bite of what looks like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

          “No, I mean why are you sitting here?” Ryan asks, not exactly hiding his displeasure.

          “None of my friends are here,” he shrugs.

          “And?” Ryan says pointedly.

          “And,” Brendon draws the word out, “I noticed that you were sitting by yourself.”

          “So?”

          “ _So_ , I thought I would sit with you,” Brendon says, looking amused.

          “But,” Ryan starts. He really doesn’t know what to say.

          “What?” Brendon tilts his head, and Ryan notices how pretty his eyes are, and then immediately pushes that thought out of his brain forever.

          “We aren’t friends,” Ryan says dumbly.

          “Your point?” Brendon pushes, taking another bite of his sandwich.

          “Do you even know my _name_?” Ryan asks dubiously, really struggling to understand how this is a real situation that's happening.

          “Sure I do, your name’s Link,” Brendon smiles. Ryan is not amused. Brendon laughs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, no I don’t, but-”

          “Of course you don’t,” Ryan mumbles, telling himself he doesn't sound bitter.

          “So what is your name then?” he asks. Ryan contemplates getting up and walking away. He doesn’t understand why Brendon suddenly decided to notice him.

          “Ryan,” he gives in.

          “Ryan…?”

          “Ross.”

          “Well, Ryan Ross, I am Brendon Urie,” he says proudly. Ryan laughs without humor.

          “Like I didn’t already know that,” Ryan mutters. Brendon appears not to have heard him.

          “So, Ryan. How come I’ve never seen you around much?” Ryan wants to punch him, right there.

          “I don’t know, are you blind?” Ryan snaps.

          “Chill,” Brendon raises his hands in a surrender. “I just never noticed you is all.”

          “Yeah,” Ryan whispers angrily before abruptly getting up and throwing his barely eaten food away.

          “Hey, where are you going?” Brendon jumps up and follows him.

          “Leave me alone,” Ryan says.

          “Did I do something to make you hate me?” Brendon asks incredulously, and Ryan whips around to face him. Brendon's face is crinkled up in confusion, and if Ryan didn't have his reasons for disliking the guy then he might actually feel bad.

          “No, I’m just wondering why you’re suddenly so interested in being my friend, or whatever the hell it is you want. Why?” Ryan demands.

          “I just. I just saw you at the game, and I liked your costume,” Brendon shrugs, baffled. “Look, I’ve seen you around today, and I noticed that you’re always alone. I just thought maybe you wanted a friend.”

          “I have a friend,” Ryan says through gritted teeth.

          “What is your problem?” Brendon asks, looking thoroughly confused and a little offended. Ryan huffs out a laugh and shakes his head.

          “You’re an asshole,” Ryan says shortly before turning around and walking off. Brendon doesn’t follow him this time.

  
           Ryan doesn’t see him for the rest of the day, and when it’s time for his last class, the one that he shares with Brendon, he skips it.

 

  


* * *

 

          The next day, Ryan really considers not going to school. He’s still in a bad mood and he doesn’t feel well. He goes anyway though, for the sake of his grades.

          He bundles up again and starts his walk to school. His day gets ruined before it’s even started. About five minutes into his walk, he hears a familiar voice.

          “Ryan!”

          He turns around to see, of course, Brendon fucking Urie. “What do you want?” he demands.

          “I didn’t know you lived around here,” Brendon muses, ignoring Ryan’s question.

          “Why are you walking?” Ryan tries.

          “Car wouldn’t start,” Brendon pouts. Ryan doesn’t smile, and he doesn't think Brendon's pout is cute. At all.

          “Go away,” Ryan mumbles, starting to walk again, a familiar scowl on his face.

          “Would you please tell me what it is that I’ve done to make you hate me so much?” Brendon asks, sounding frustrated.

          “I already told you, you’re an asshole,” Ryan replies casually.

          “You don’t even know me!” he defends.

          “Oh, I know you,” Ryan stops walking to face Brendon. “You’re Mr. Popular, right? Everyone loves you, and you get whatever you want. You go around with your little jock friends and act like you’re the best damn thing in the world. You didn’t even know I _existed_ until now.”

          Brendon has an unreadable look on his face. “You shouldn’t judge people,” he says quietly. “I’m nothing like that.”

          “Yeah, sure you aren’t,” Ryan snorts. Brendon looks kind of hurt, and then Ryan maybe feels a little guilty. He’s usually not such a jerk, but he is totally justified in being one to Brendon.

          “I’m just trying to be friends with you,” Brendon says, anger in his voice.

          “I don’t want to be your friend,” Ryan says bluntly, and he means it. Believe him, he tried to be Brendon’s friend. His freshman, sophomore, _and_ junior years, he tried so hard. Even after he gave up on trying to impress the rest of them, he still tried with Brendon. He thought Brendon was the coolest person ever. He even kind of looked up to him. But Brendon _never_ paid any attention to him, and that’s maybe the real reason that Ryan hates him so much.

          “What did I ever do to you?” Brendon exasperates, and Ryan can’t hold it in anymore.

          “You ignored me for three years!” he yells. Brendon looks taken aback.

          “What?” he asks, confused and eyes wide.

          “You seriously don’t even remember, do you?” Ryan says bitterly, shaking his head, and Brendon just stares.

          “Remember what?” His face scrunches up as he gets more and more confused.

          “Our first year of high school, when you moved here, we got paired to do an assignment in class. We didn’t talk much, but you were nice to me. You were the first person that was actually nice to me and I wanted to be your friend. But not long after that, you got popular. I tried talking to you all the time. Every time, you’d just run off with your friends. For _three years_ I tried to get your attention but you wouldn’t even fucking give me the time of day! And after all that you still didn’t even know my name. So excuse me if I don’t want to be friends with someone who suddenly decides to notice me because he took a break from his perfect little fucking world,” Ryan finishes loudly, feeling his cheeks get hot from anger.

          Brendon stares at him, shocked. “I. Ryan, I’m sorry,” he says helplessly. “It’s not like it was intentional…I just. I never noticed-”

          “We have a fucking class together, Brendon! But of course you didn’t. Why would you notice me? Nobody else does,” Ryan says weakly, his voice cracking.

          “I’m sorry,” Brendon says again helplessly.

          “Whatever. It was a long time ago. I don’t even care anymore.”

          “Look, I know you think I’m this huge egotistical ass, but I’m not,” Brendon says, his eyes honest. Ryan studies him for a minute.

          “We’re going to be late,” he says, continuing to walk. They don’t talk for the rest of the walk, Brendon trailing behind Ryan. As soon as they get to school, Ryan runs off to homeroom.

          He doesn’t exactly know how he feels about Brendon wanting to be friends with him. And the whole four or five times he’s talked to him, he actually _did_ seem kind of nice. Ryan keeps waiting for him to act like the jerk Ryan thought he was, but he hasn’t yet.

          Spencer asks him what’s wrong in homeroom, but Ryan says he’s fine. And he is. He’s totally fine.

          By lunch time, Ryan’s forgotten about the whole thing. Spencer and Zoey, a girl in the band with them who came over to chat with Spencer, joke around and make him laugh, and he’s feeling a lot better. Spencer looks confused suddenly and Ryan’s about to ask what’s wrong when he brings his gaze to where Spencer’s looking. Ryan sighs. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

          “Hi,” Brendon says cautiously. Ryan just stares at him. “Can I sit here?”

          “Why?” Ryan asks a little too harshly.

          “Because I want to,” he says simply. Ryan’s a bit conflicted.

          “Don’t you have friends to sit with?” Ryan says only a _little_ bitterly. Brendon sits down in front of Ryan without permission and puts his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on the table and looking up at Ryan with big eyes. For a fleeting, _insane_ second, Ryan thinks about how cute it makes him look.

          “They don’t own me, I can do whatever I want,” Brendon says, smiling slightly.

          “Whatever,” Ryan mumbles. Spencer and Zoey are obviously confused as to why Brendon is sitting with them and why he’s talking to Ryan, but they go on chatting anyway, with Brendon adding his thoughts into the conversation every now and then. Ryan hasn’t said anything else though; he’s just staring down at his food, picking at it.

          “Ryan,” Brendon says quietly. Ryan looks up at him, and Brendon looks apologetic. “I’m really sorry, okay? Can we just be friends?” Ryan really, _really_ wants to tell him to fuck off, but he just can’t. He looks so sincere. Spencer looks between them, confused, but doesn't say anything.

  
          “Whatever,” Ryan sighs deeply. Brendon breaks out into a smile, and Ryan tells himself that he does _not_ smile back at all.

 

  


* * *

 

          Suddenly, Brendon’s everywhere. He follows Ryan around for the rest of the day, showing up by his locker in between classes, (and just how did he know where Ryan’s locker is?) sitting by him in the class they share - now that he’s actually noticed Ryan’s in there - and pretty much acting like they’re best friends. Ryan doesn’t really know what to think. He figures Brendon just feels bad about ignoring Ryan all those years, and now he’s trying to make up for it. Ryan still thinks Brendon’s an ass.

          Ryan and Spencer are walking home because Spencer’s sister needed to borrow his car. They live a few streets away from each other, and they’re not far away when Ryan hears his name called.

          “Ryan!” Ryan spins around to see Brendon running over to them, smiling. “Hey!” he says when he’s close enough. Spencer looks like he doesn’t know what’s going on, and Ryan has to remember to explain it to him some time.

          “Um. Hi,” Ryan says awkwardly. He’s still unsure of this whole thing.

          “Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever really properly met,” Brendon says to Spencer. “It’s Spencer, right?”

          “Yeah, hi…” Spencer says, glancing at Ryan who looks away innocently.

          “So what are you guys up to?”

          “We were just going home,” Spencer says, scratching his head.

          “Oh, I guess I must live close to you guys. I live on the next street over there,” he says, pointing to the street that Ryan lives on. Ryan’s a little surprised. How the hell did he not know that Brendon lived on the same _street_ as him?

          “Oh, that’s Ryan’s street,” Spencer says, seemingly just as surprised as Ryan. Brendon breaks out into a smile, looking over at Ryan.

          “I can’t believe we’ve lived on the same street for so long and never figured it out,” Brendon laughs.

          “Uh, yeah. Weird,” Ryan mumbles.

          “So, are you busy? I thought maybe we could hang out,” Brendon shrugs, still smiling. Ryan scrunches his eyebrows and crosses his arms defensively.

          “Um, I don’t know,” he replies. He knows he’s being an asshole, but he can’t help it. He can’t just spend two and a half years hating Brendon and then like him overnight, let alone want to hang out with him. Brendon’s smile falters a bit, and he looks down at the ground.

          “Oh. Alright, well I guess I’ll just see you at school then,” Brendon says, walking past them and giving a little half wave.

          “Dude, why are you being such a dick?” Spencer whispers harshly to Ryan. Ryan turns his defensive posture toward Spencer, a frown set firmly on his face.

          “I told you, I hate him.”

          “But he’s _nice_. And did you not just say that you two could be friends at lunch today? By the way, what was that all about?” Spencer wonders. Ryan rolls his eyes at Spencer’s nonexistent attention span.

          “He’s not nice, he’s a jerk. This whole nice thing is all an act. And I only agreed to that so he’d shut up. He talked to me yesterday when everyone was gone and ever since then he’s been trying to be my friend,” Ryan explains, deciding to leave out the important parts that don’t happen to be any of Spencer’s business.

          “Whatever, dude. _Brendon Urie_ wants to be your friend, and you’re complaining? Everyone wants to be his friend,” Spencer reminds him.

          “And that’s exactly why I _don’t_ ,” Ryan exasperates. “He’s overrated. He’s conceited. He’s so fucking _fake_ it kills me.”

          “How do you know?” Spencer demands, also crossing his arms.

          “I can just tell,” Ryan huffs. Spencer rolls his eyes and continues walking, muttering about Ryan being a stupid prick under his breath. Ryan follows him, looking ahead to see Brendon rounding the corner onto their street, shoulders slumped and kicking his feet on the pavement. Ryan doesn’t feel bad at all.

 

* * *

 

 

           The next morning, Ryan wakes up with his throat searing, his nose stuffy, and his head pounding. He walks into the kitchen and is surprised to see that his mother is actually home. She takes one look at him and sends him back to bed. Ryan doesn’t protest one bit. He feels like shit. He goes back into his bedroom, grabs his phone, and calls Spencer. He picks up after three rings.

          “ _H’lo_?” Ryan hears through the phone from a sleepy-sounding Spencer.

          “Hey,” Ryan croaks.

          “ _Dude, you sound like hell,_ ” Spencer remarks around a yawn.

          “Yeah, I’m sick. So I’m staying home today. I was just wondering if you could tell me the homework assignments after school?”

          “ _Yeah, okay. I’ll see you when you feel better then. I‘ll call you after school_ ,” Spencer agrees, more awake now.

          “Thanks,” Ryan coughs out. They say goodbye and Ryan immediately pulls the curtains over his window, effectively darkening the room, and stumbles back into his warm bed, lying on his side and pulling the blanket up to his chin. He hates not being able to breathe out of his nose. It feels like he’s suffocating. There’s a knock on his bedroom door, and then his mom comes in.

          “Here, I brought you some medicine to help you sleep,” his mom says soothingly. Ryan really loves his mother, and he wishes she was around more often. But he knows that her job takes a lot of her time, and she only does it so they can keep the nice house and the comfortable life they live, but still. He _misses_ her.

          “Thanks,” he says, and the vibrations in his throat send his lungs into a frenzy, causing him to cough up some substance that he really wishes would have stayed in his lungs.

          “If you’re still feeling bad tomorrow, we’ll take you to the doctor, okay?” his mother says, stroking his hair.

          “You mean you’re gonna be home?” he asks, not even hiding the pathetic hope in his voice.

          “Yep. I’m off for the next three days,” she smiles down at him, and he returns it happily. “And your dad will be working, so it’s just me and you, kiddo.” Ryan is actually glad. He doesn’t particularly like his father.

  
          “Cool,” he smiles, lying his head back down on the pillow after swallowing the medicine. His mom leaves a glass of water on his night stand, and she kisses him on the forehead before leaving the room. Ryan gratefully lets the medicine lull him into a deep sleep.

 

  


-

 

          Ryan wakes up at one in the afternoon. He hasn’t slept that late in a _long_ time. He kind of misses it. He walks into the kitchen to refill his water and get some headache medicine, finding that he doesn’t actually feel any better. He feels too sick to eat, so he retreats back to his room to read for a bit. He doesn’t get much reading in because not too much later, there’s a knock at his door, and his mother opens it again.

          “You have a visitor,” she smiles sweetly at him. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

          “But Spencer’s at school,” he informs her.

          “Not Spencer,” she says, stepping aside to reveal a head of dark hair and bright red-framed glasses (which Ryan raises an eyebrow at because he’s never seen Brendon wearing glasses.)

          “Um,” Ryan mutters unintelligently.

          “Hi,” Brendon grins wryly, doing that little half-wave thing he does.

          “What are you doing here?” Ryan blurts.

          “Ryan, sweetie, why haven’t I met Brendon before?” Ryan’s mother questions. Ryan is so tempted to say, ‘ _Because we’re not friends_ ,’ but before he has a chance, Brendon answers for him.

          “Oh, we haven’t been friends for very long,” he smiles politely at Ryan’s mom, and it’s obvious that she already completely loves him. Of course she does. _Everyone_ does.

          “Oh, alright. Well I’ll leave you to it then,” she smiles once more before exiting the room. Brendon darts his eyes around nervously, looking anywhere but at Ryan.

          “Why aren’t you at school?” Ryan asks awkwardly, because this really is so awkward. Brendon Urie. At his house. In his _room_. Ryan feels exposed.

          “Spencer said you were sick,” he shrugs. Like that explains anything at all.

          “Yeah. And?” Ryan drawls, sounding ridiculous through his stuffed nose and sore throat.

          “And so I asked Spencer your address and skipped the rest of my classes because I thought maybe you were bored here and wanted some company,” Brendon mumbles. Ryan just kind of stares for a moment.

          “You skipped class just to come see me?” he asks incredulously.

          “Well, yeah,” Brendon shrugs again. Ryan’s eyes narrow.

          “You know, I get it. You’re trying to make up for being an ass for the past three years, but you don’t have to follow me around and pretend to like me and act like you wanna be best friends. You don’t have to do all this just to clear your guilty conscience,” Ryan rants. “I’m not interested in fake friends.” Brendon’s face contorts into disbelief, and a bit of hurt, maybe.

          “You think I’m only being nice because I feel bad?” he asks slowly. Ryan raises a brow. “Ryan, I do feel bad, but I’m not _pretending_ to want to be your friend. I _do_ want to be your friend. When you’re not being a total _ass_ you’re really cool. I don’t know why you have it in your head that I’m this awful person, but I’m just trying to be nice here,” Brendon insists. He looks a bit desperate now, like perhaps he doesn’t know what else he can say to make Ryan believe him.

          “So you’re telling me that you came here to visit me while I’m sick just because you genuinely wanted to?” Ryan asks skeptically. Brendon simply nods, in a way that kind of says, ‘ _duh_.’

          Ryan feels stupid for the way he acted now. “Well. That’s really. I mean,” Ryan stumbles over his words, a little embarrassed. “You didn’t have to do that,” he decides. Brendon smiles, the tension leaving his posture, his shoulders relaxing more from the previous rigidness they’d had.

          “Well, was I right? Are you bored out of your mind?” Brendon asks.

          “Um. Kind of?” Ryan says, unintentionally adding an inflection at the end. He laughs a little nervously, and Brendon smiles even more.

  
          “Well, here I am,” Brendon announces, bouncing a little and gesturing to himself boldly. Ryan can’t help but laugh. Brendon is so… _eccentric_. Ryan never really pictured him that way. He thinks maybe he was a little wrong on his assumptions of Brendon.

 

  


-

 

          Three hours later and Ryan has officially decided that Brendon isn’t really that bad. He’s been successful in cheering Ryan up, but Ryan is definitely still keeping his guard up, because he’s not just letting in a new person that easily. He doesn’t work like that.

          “Let’s watch a movie,” Brendon suggests. He’s now lying next to Ryan on the bed, except Ryan is bundled up in the blanket and Brendon is lying on top of it.

          “They’re over there,” Ryan points to the shelf beside his TV. “You pick,” he adds, not really caring since he knows he likes all of those movies. Brendon hops up and skims over the movie titles, chewing on his lip. Ryan is observing him as he bends down to look at the lower part of the shelf, and _oh_. Ryan definitely did not just check out Brendon Urie’s ass. Nope. And it definitely wasn’t an amazing ass, and Ryan _really_ does not want to squeeze it. He abruptly stops his train of thought right there and turns his gaze to the ceiling, staring at it wide-eyed, feeling guilty and a little ashamed for his dirty thoughts. Except they weren’t dirty thoughts because they never, _ever_ happened.

          “Ooh, you have _Dirty Dancing_ ,” Brendon notes, picking it from the shelf and putting it in the DVD player. Ryan is embarrassed for half a second for having that movie before he realizes that Brendon is the one who just picked it out, so. Now that Ryan thinks about it, Brendon is completely unlike he ever thought he was. He’s the star football player, and he likes Dirty Dancing and wears tight jeans and hoodies and ~~cute~~ dorky glasses. Ryan doesn’t _understand_. He shakes his head to himself and decides not to question it right now.

          “So, what’s up with the glasses?” Ryan asks, gesturing to the aforementioned glasses. Brendon’s cheeks slowly turn a soft pink color, and Ryan thinks the contrast of color against his otherwise pale skin sort of suits him.

          “Oh, um. I didn’t feel like wearing my contacts today,” Brendon shrugs embarrassedly.

          “I like the glasses,” Ryan nods.

          “Thanks,” Brendon mumbles, smiling slightly. Ryan’s stomach makes an awful noise, and he laughs a little. “Hungry?” Brendon asks, laughing along with him.

          “Yeah, but I haven’t been able to eat all day,” Ryan informs, clutching his aching stomach for good measure. Brendon frowns.

          “Still not feeling any better?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

          “No,” Ryan answers honestly. He still feels like hell.

          “You need to eat. I’ll be right back,” Brendon announces before promptly jumping off the bed and running out of the room. Ryan’s mouth opens and closes and he yells for Brendon but doesn’t feel like getting up to go after him, so he waits. The DVD menu pops up and Ryan stares at the TV, thinking about how he _didn’t_ check out Brendon’s ass. Around what Ryan figures to be ten minutes later, he hears Brendon trotting back down the hallway. He scoots himself up into a sitting position as Brendon enters the room, carrying a tray.

          “I made you soup!” he announces brightly, and Ryan’s eyebrows go up. “It’ll make you feel better,” he insists, so Ryan nods and accepts the tray that Brendon passes to him.

          “You didn’t have to,” Ryan mumbles, a little embarrassed. Brendon just rolls his eyes and waves a hand. It seems he’s just went and made himself at home, then.

          “That’s okay. I mean, someone has to take care of you,” Brendon replies.

  
          “I do have a mom, you know,” Ryan teases. Brendon flushes a little but hops back on the bed and plays the DVD. “Thanks,” Ryan adds a second later, looking down at the chicken noodle soup. Brendon smiles in return, and they turn their attention to the television as the movie starts. Ryan sips his soup, finding that he’s actually able to keep it down.

 

  


* * *

 

          “So, I guess I should get going,” Brendon says at around seven after the movie is finished.

          “Yeah,” Ryan agrees, smiling. “Thanks for coming over.”

          “It was no problem,” Brendon says with that bright smile. “It was fun,” he shrugs.

          “Yeah, it actually kinda was,” Ryan muses. He isn’t really used to hanging out at his house with company. Actually, Brendon is the first person other than Spencer that Ryan’s ever had over.

          “So does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Brendon asks, hope clear in his voice. Ryan frowns. 

          “I didn’t _hate_ you,” he protests, although he kind of did hate him. Brendon gives him a doubtful look. “Okay so obviously I disliked you a whole lot,” Ryan relents, but hurries to finish his sentence when Brendon’s face falls, “but I was wrong about you, I think,” he rushes out. “You’re actually… really nice.” Brendon’s smile is back on his face like it never left.

  
          “I told you that you shouldn’t judge people,” he says. “Oh, here,” Brendon reaches for Ryan’s cell phone lying on his bedside table and opens it. “I’ll put my number in. Text me in the morning and let me know if you’re better. If you are, I’ll give you a ride to school,” he offers. “Got my car fixed,” he adds as an afterthought, shrugging. Before Ryan can tell Brendon that Spencer usually takes him when he doesn‘t walk, Brendon is turned around and out the door. Well then.

 

  


* * *

 

          When Ryan wakes up the next morning, he feels ten times better than he did the previous day. He still feels a bit stuffy and congested, but all things considered, he’s better. He doesn’t want to miss more school than he has to so he grabs his phone, searching for Spencer’s number in the contacts. He abruptly stops when a new name catches his eye. Brendon’s number. Ryan bites his lip and wonders if it’s a good idea to ride with him or not. He puts aside his worries and just decides to go for it. He likes the side of Brendon that he saw yesterday.

          He quickly texts Brendon, telling him that he’s going to school today if the offer for the ride still stands, and Brendon replies within two minutes, telling him he’ll be there at 7:45. Ryan hurries to get dressed and gather his things, throwing on a scarf and some fingerless gloves that Spencer is sure to make fun of. He worries over his messy hair in the mirror and rubs at his tired eyes. After he tells his mom goodbye, goes outside, and locks the door, it doesn’t take long for Brendon to show up. Ryan nervously hops into the passenger seat.

          “Hey,” Brendon smiles at him. “Feeling better?”

          “Mostly, yeah,” Ryan replies through his still-stuffy nose. Brendon gives him a wary look, like maybe he isn’t sure Ryan is actually well enough for school, but continues to back out onto the road anyway.

          They receive several odd looks from people when they arrive at school together. Ryan feels like he’s under a microscope with all these people staring at him. A guy - Frank, Ryan thinks his name is - approaches them with a cautious air about him.

          “Um, hey, Bren,” he says, glancing at Ryan questioningly. Ryan rolls his eyes to himself. So that’s how this is gonna be, then.

          “Hey,” Brendon nods. “This is Ryan,” he introduces. Frank sends Ryan a less than convincing smile, and Ryan just stares at him.

          “I’ll catch you later,” he says to Brendon, sending Ryan a judging look and walking away.

          “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of my friends,” Brendon offers hesitantly, heading toward a group that Ryan recognizes all too well as Brendon’s little group of followers. He’s sure his face reflects the distaste he feels on the inside. It’s obvious that Brendon doesn’t really want them to meet him. He scoffs.

          “No, thanks,” he grimaces, heading into the building. To his surprise, Brendon follows him.

          “They really aren’t that bad,” he reasons.

          “I really don’t care,” Ryan shoots back. He can almost hear Brendon’s inward sigh. He stops and turns to face him.

          “Look, we can be friends, as in you and I, but we, as in me and _them_ , we will never be friends. People like them and people like me just don’t go together,” Ryan tells him bluntly.

          “’People like them’?” he imitates, sounding offended. “I _am_ one of them.”

  
          “No, you’re not. You just pretend to be,” Ryan says quietly, starting to walk again. He hears Brendon’s footsteps along with his, so he continues. “Do you know why I thought you were such an asshole? Because I’ve seen the way you act around them, and it’s nothing like the way you’ve been acting around me,” he discloses to him. Brendon looks surprised, like nobody’s ever said anything like that to him, and they probably haven’t. “Maybe you need to decide which Brendon you really are, because you can’t be both,” Ryan sighs before walking away toward his first class. He has a feeling this new friendship is going to be tiring.

 

  


-

 

          Sixth period Ryan has band. He walks into the band room, immediately going over to Spencer and sighing until he gets his attention.

          “What?” Spencer asks finally.

          “Brendon and I are kinda friends now. For real this time. But his other friends are jerks,” he complains.

          “So?” Spencer asks dumbly.

          “So, if Brendon is only going to be nice when he’s not around his friends then what’s the point?” Ryan insists.

          “Stop jumping to conclusions and just give him a chance, Ryan,” Spencer snaps suddenly, causing Ryan to flinch. Just then Patrick walks in with Pete behind him loyally.

          “Has anyone seen my clipboard?!” Patrick yells, running around and nearly hyperventilating. He searches on tables, under chairs, in cupboards.

          “I found it!” Pete suddenly exclaims, grabbing a clipboard from under a pile of sheet music. “Here, Patrick,” he says, bounding up to Patrick and smiling like an idiot. Patrick relaxes and smiles softly at Pete.

          “Thank God,” he sighs in relief, taking the clipboard. “Thanks,” he says to Pete, sending him one last smile before walking away. Pete sighs longingly after him, watching him walk away. He ambles over to Spencer and Ryan and plops down morosely into a chair across from them.

          “Pete, just ask him out already,” Spencer suggests.

          “What are you talking about?” Pete mutters embarrassedly, standing up and quickly walking away. Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

          “They’re both so stupid,” Spencer laughs with him. Most of the other band kids are in the practice room, but Ryan and Spencer always hang out in here where they can be by themselves. They don’t really do much in class; all of the work gets done at their practices.

          The band room door swings open, causing the two boys to jerk their heads up. Brendon and another football player, Gabe, walk in. Ryan is confused, because he doesn’t know what they would be doing here. Brendon looks surprised to see Ryan, like maybe he forgot he was in the band.

          “Um,” Brendon starts awkwardly. “We’re supposed to give this to the band director,” he says, holding up a piece of paper.

          “She’s in there,” Ryan says, pointing to her office. Brendon nods, coughing a little awkwardly and heading for the office. Ryan doesn’t know why he’s being so weird. When the two come out a minute later, Gabe struts over to Spencer and Ryan with an amused expression. Brendon closes his eyes and shakes his head, like he knows what Gabe is about to do.

          “So, what do you nerds even do in here?” Gabe laughs, sitting across from Ryan and looking at him like he’s stupid.

          “Did you want something?” Ryan asks harshly, partly annoyed by Brendon’s stupid friends and partly angry because Brendon isn’t stepping in.

          “I saw you following Brendon around. Does the school's token gay kid have a crush on him?” Gabe laughs starkly. Ryan’s breath catches in his throat. He didn’t expect anyone to realize he was the gay kid who came out, since nobody really knows who he is. “You know, that’s kind of pathetic. Even if Brendon was a fag, he probably wouldn’t go for someone like you,” he says with faux sympathy. Ryan shoots Brendon a furious look. _Following him around_? More like Brendon badgered _him_ until he gave in. He doesn’t say anything though. Brendon shifts his eyes guiltily and Ryan shakes his head in disbelief.

          “Fuck off,” he says to Gabe before standing up and storming out of the band room. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much, but seeing Brendon just standing there while Gabe made fun of him really hurt. He hears the door open and turns around to see Brendon running after him.

          “Hey, wait!” Brendon calls. Ryan comes to a halt and turns around, making Brendon stumble in his haste to slow down.

          “What the fuck do you want now?” Ryan practically hisses. Brendon flinches at the tone.

          “Ryan, what’s wrong?” he asks. Ryan huffs out an incredulous laugh.

          “What’s _wrong_? You just sat there while your ‘friend’ humiliated me. If you’re that much of a coward then I don’t want to be your friend,” Ryan seethes. 

          “I’m sorry, okay?” Brendon says pathetically. “It’s just, that’s how he is.”

          “Don’t make excuses. He’s a fucking dick. _All_ of your friends are, Brendon. This isn’t going to work,” Ryan shakes his head, turning around and walking away. He thinks twice and turns back again, feeling the adrenaline. “No, you know what, why do you want to be friends with me anyway? I’m nothing like those people, and you’re obviously embarrassed of me,” he rants.

          “I’m not,” Brendon argues. “I just. I like you because you’re different. You don’t just care about parties and girls and who scored the most on the weekends,” he insists. “I can have actual conversations with you.”

          “Aren’t you afraid hanging out with a fag will ruin your reputation?” Ryan spits. Brendon looks down.

          “I didn’t know you were gay,” he admits. Ryan swallows.

          “Great. So now you do, and you can go on pretending like I don’t exist.”

          “What?” Brendon looks up again, his eyebrows creased. “I don’t care that you’re gay, Ryan,” he says with a shake of his head. Ryan sighs, tired of all of this. Tired of fighting.

          “I’ve got to go,” he says finally.

          “I’ll see you at the game tomorrow?” Brendon asks hopefully.

  
          “Sure, if you’re brave enough to talk to me in front of your friends,” Ryan says before walking away.

 

  


* * *

 

          Ryan gets a text from Brendon after band practice on Friday.

          ‘ _i’m sorry abt yesterday. hang out after the game tonight?_ ’

          Ryan sighs, contemplating. He finally replies, ‘ _idk_.’

          He’s getting into Spencer’s car when Brendon replies again.

          ‘ _pls? it’ll be funnnn :)_ ’ 

          Ryan has to smile at that. He begrudgingly types, ‘ _fine_.’ Brendon proceeds to send him five smiley faces, and Ryan rolls his eyes to himself.

          “What are you smiling at?” Spencer asks with amusement. Ryan clears his throat and drops the smile.

          “Just, texting Brendon,” he says coolly.

          “Ooh, flirty text messages? That's always my favorite stage of a new relationship,” Spencer quips. Ryan whips his head around, gaping.

          “We’re just friends,” Ryan insists. “Brendon is straight. I don’t like him like that. We barely even _know_ each other,” he lists, his voice getting higher with every word. Spencer has to bite his lip to hold in laughter.

          “Um, I was just kidding,” Spencer informs him with a laugh at his expense. Ryan’s eyes widen a fraction of an inch.

          “I know. Um, so was I,” he lies. Spencer bursts out laughing.

          “You really do like him, don’t you?” he accuses. Ryan’s mouth hangs open. “You do!” Spencer laughs.

          “Spencer, I _hated_ him three days ago, do you really think I have a crush on him now?” Ryan defends, turning red. Spencer just shrugs, secretly thinking that Ryan is totally in love with that boy. You know what they say: if you despise someone, it usually means you really like them.

          They arrive at the football field, quickly taking their seats in the band section on the bleachers. Ryan kind of feels excited for this game. It’s going to be weird watching Brendon play now that he doesn’t hate him. He wonders if he should cheer for him. Is he supposed to cheer for him? God, he’s starting to sound like a ridiculous schoolgirl. He has no idea why Spencer thinks he… _likes_ Brendon. That would be absurd. Brendon is his new friend. Brendon is a football player. Brendon… looks insanely good in that football uniform, holy shit. Ryan’s gaze is brought to where the players are lined up along the fence, getting ready to go out onto the field. Brendon bends over to fix something on his shoe and holy shit, Ryan can’t look _away_. Okay, he can’t lie to himself anymore. He was checking out Brendon’s ass that day and he’s doing it again right now. But _he is wearing spandex pants_ , okay, and Ryan can’t look away.

          Why, for the love of God, _why_ do those pants have to be made out of spandex?

          This doesn’t mean that he has a _crush_ on him, no. He’s just… appreciating Brendon’s anatomy. Spencer suddenly starts laughing beside him.

          “Please don’t tell me you’re looking at what I think you’re looking at,” he teases. Ryan glares at him and thanks every higher power that it’s time for the game to start.

          “I wasn’t looking at anything,” he scowls. Spencer doesn’t argue, he just sits there with that knowing smirk on his face.

          This is probably the most attention Ryan’s ever paid at one of these games, and even though he still doesn’t understand the game - what the fuck is a _first down_? - he does find it interesting watching Brendon. He’s so graceful and agile, and Ryan thinks it must be a pretty big accomplishment to look graceful while playing football. When Brendon makes the first touchdown, Ryan surprises himself by standing up and cheering with everyone else, earning a bewildered look from Spencer.

          Ryan clears his throat, sitting down and watching Patrick get ready to direct them on the music they play when their team gets a touchdown. Spencer turns to him once they finish.

          “Ryan. You _cheered_ ,” he deadpans. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a crush on him,” he smiles. Ryan huffs, really started to get agitated that Spencer can’t seem to let this go.

          “He’s my _friend_ , Spence. So I cheered for him, so what?” Before Spencer can reply, the buzzer that signals halftime goes off, and since it’s an away game, their band is on the field first. Ryan sighs and gets up, following his fellow band members off the bleachers.

          When he’s passing the football players, Brendon playfully punches his shoulder, and with a smile says, “Don’t mess up.” Ryan rolls his eyes at him but smiles nonetheless, continuing toward the field.

          Toward the end of their performance, Ryan feels eyes on him. And he knows that there are technically hundreds of eyes on him, but sure enough, he looks over to see Brendon leaning against the fence, watching him. Ryan looks away and prays that he doesn’t trip and fall on his face. Luckily, he doesn’t. He’s glad when it’s over, because for some reason he feels embarrassed with Brendon watching him. At least he doesn’t play some dorky instrument like the trombone.

          Brendon stops him once again on his way off the field. “We’re still hanging out tonight, right?” he asks. Ryan’s surprised, because he says it right in front of Gabe, who looks thoroughly confused. But Ryan only gives a hesitant smile and a nod, pretending not to notice the way Brendon just beams. If he gives Gabe a nasty look before he walks off then it's completely accidental.

          Spencer spends the rest of the game teasing Ryan, and Ryan spends the rest of the time kind of excited about the night and also mentally murdering Spencer. He decides that if Spencer ever gets a girlfriend he is going to tease the fuck out of him as payback. Not that Brendon is his boyfriend. Or anything like a boyfriend.

          Brendon is waiting by his car, which is parked near Spencer’s, when Ryan and Spencer get to the parking lot. Spencer shoves Ryan toward Brendon with another stupid smirk.

          “So I was thinking maybe you could ride with me?” Brendon asks tentatively. “If you want, I mean,” he hastily adds. 

          “Uh, yeah, sure. So. So my place or yours?” he asks, immediately flushing because of the way that sounded. Brendon laughs, obviously thinking the same thing. “Um. I mean, not. I meant-”

          “I know what you meant,” Brendon dismisses with a playful smile. “Also, I guess we could go to yours if you don’t mind.”

          “No, that’s fine. My parents are gone anyway, so we won’t have to deal with them,” he informs Brendon, both of them climbing into the car. They make surprisingly not awkward small talk along the way. Every time Brendon makes Ryan laugh, he gets this joyous, accomplished look on his face, like he’s so proud that he put that smile on Ryan’s face.

          When they arrive back at Ryan’s house, they go straight to his room, Ryan collapsing on his bed. A thought suddenly occurs to him.

          “Hey, I thought all the football guys always did something together after the games?” he asks Brendon, who shrugs.

          “Yeah, but I’d just rather hang out with you,” he says earnestly. Ryan stares down at his comforter, feeling about a million emotions all at once. Brendon lies next to him on the bed and proceeds to stare at the ceiling. He’s eventually the first to break the silence.

          “Do you still think I’m an asshole?” he asks quietly. Ryan turns his head so he’s facing Brendon, who is gazing back at him curiously.

          “No,” Ryan says softly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I called you that,” he apologizes.

          “It’s okay,” Brendon returns, turning his head toward Ryan too. “I, um. I really like being around you,” he admits. He almost sounds like he’s confused about it.

          “Me too,” Ryan answers honestly. “I just wish you weren’t friends with those idiots.” Brendon gives him an offended look, about to protest, but Ryan keeps talking. “You’re so much better than them, Brendon. You’re smart, and you’re nice, okay, and you deserve friends that actually care about you,” he says, the words coming from nowhere.

          “Friends like you?” Brendon asks. Ryan nods slowly.

          “I know you’re right,” Brendon sighs. “But after high school I won’t ever see those people again, so I might as well just put up with them for now.”

          “Yeah, I guess,” Ryan mutters. It gets quiet then, neither boy knowing quite what to say.

          “I’m sorry again, about what Gabe said earlier,” Brendon murmurs. Ryan’s face gets hot, remembering Gabe saying Ryan had a crush on Brendon.

          “It’s not a big deal,” Ryan replies dejectedly. “That’s one of the glorious perks of being gay; every single fucking guy thinks you automatically have a crush on them.” Brendon looks at him then.

          “Well I mean, come on, look at me,” he smirks. Ryan huffs out a laugh, shoving at Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon doesn’t let it go though. “No, seriously. Are you saying that you don’t think I’m attractive?” he asks incredulously. Ryan really doesn’t know what to say to that.

          “I- _what_?” he laughs nervously.

          “Tell me the truth, Ross. Do you think I’m attractive or not?”

          “I, um,” Ryan stutters, feeling extremely awkward. “I- well. I, uh-”

          “Do you or not?” Brendon stresses. “ _Do you_?”

          “Yes!” Ryan blurts. “Yes, God, now _please_ shut up!” he admits, completely mortified. He cannot believe he just told Brendon he think he’s attractive.

          “I knew it!” Brendon grins. “You totally think I’m hot.”

          “Oh, please,” Ryan rolls his eyes, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

          “Don’t be embarrassed,” Brendon smiles. “I think you’re pretty,” he declares, his eyes immediately widening like maybe he didn’t mean to say that out loud. Ryan stares in shock.

          “ _Pretty_?” he repeats dubiously. Brendon bites his lip to hold back a laugh. “I cannot believe you seriously just called me pretty,” Ryan huffs. Brendon giggles childishly, turning on his side to face Ryan.

          “But you are,” he says almost cautiously. He’s kind of close, and Ryan swallows.

          “Thanks,” Ryan says, and he means it to come out facetiously, but it doesn’t.

          Brendon’s eyes dart down quickly to Ryan’s lips, but Ryan notices. Ryan thinks, _oh shit, there’s no way he’s doing what I think he’s doing_. But Brendon starts leaning in, and Ryan thinks maybe he is doing what he thinks he’s doing. Before he has a chance to think how insane this is and wonder why Brendon’s doing it, he feels soft, full lips against his own, and he forgets everything he was worrying about.

          Ryan comes to the conclusion that when he decided he didn’t like Brendon he was totally, _totally_ wrong because he’s feeling tingles all the way down to his toes. He slowly moves his lips against Brendon’s, getting used to the strange new feeling. He always did think Brendon had an amazing mouth, even if he wouldn‘t admit it. Ryan flicks his tongue over Brendon’s bottom lip, completely lost in the feeling of him, his smell, his presence. All of that is cut short as Brendon suddenly jerks away, and Ryan has a sinking feeling in his stomach.

          “Shit,” Brendon whispers. He looks panicked, and Ryan knows what’s happening; he’s freaking out.

          “Brendon,” Ryan says calmly.

          “I’m- I’m not _gay_ , I. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I did,” he rambles, shaking his head.

          “No, hey, it’s okay,” Ryan soothes, but Brendon jumps off the bed.

          “No, it’s not okay,” he chokes out, his voice rising. “I’m straight. I’m- fuck, I have to go,” he whispers.

          “But,” Ryan starts, feeling kind of hurt. “I thought we were hanging out.”

          “No, I need to go. Now,” Brendon says quietly, grabbing his things. Ryan watches pathetically as Brendon walks out and leaves. He just sits there, listening to Brendon’s car backing out of the driveway. He lies back down, confused and already lonely. He does like Brendon. He just didn’t realize it until now. He feels bad about himself now. Obviously Brendon regrets kissing him. If anything, Ryan just made him realize that he doesn’t like guys at all, and now he’s disgusted and doesn’t want to see Ryan anymore. But Ryan can’t help feeling that Brendon was _really_ into that kiss.

  
          Ryan doesn’t even notice he’s crying until he feels the pillow wet beneath him.

 

* * *

 

 

          He ends up calling Spencer an hour later and crying to him on the phone, telling him the whole story. Spencer doesn’t even comment on the fact that Ryan is finally admitting he likes Brendon, he just listens, because that‘s what best friends do.  


  
          He doesn’t even know why he’s crying over this. It’s not like he’s in love with the boy. He only just realized that he has feelings for him. It’s just- he and Brendon kind of became close in a really short time, and now he’s scared that he’s lost him as a friend too. And no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

 

  


* * *

 

          Brendon avoids Ryan at school on Monday, just as Ryan feared he would. The same on Tuesday. And Wednesday. On Thursday, Ryan’s had enough. He corners Brendon when he sees him walking alone in the hallway. He grabs his arm, dragging him around the corner and shoving him against the wall. Brendon looks shocked, to say the least.

          “What the fuck is your problem?” Ryan asks angrily. Brendon blinks his wide eyes at him.

          “What are you talking about?” he mumbles, playing dumb.

          “Stop it, Brendon, you know what the fuck I’m talking about,” he snaps, lowering his voice for the next part. “So what, _you_ kiss _me_ , and then you avoid me like the plague because you’re what, freaking out about your sexuality now?” Brendon opens his mouth but Ryan cuts him off, pouring out all his frustration. “That’s not fucking fair, Brendon. I didn’t even do anything. It’s real simple; if you like guys, you like guys. If you don’t, then you don’t. Don’t make this more complicated by treating me like shit. I thought we were friends?” he asks, some of the hurt seeping into his voice. He stops then, breathing slightly harder and glaring at a guilty-looking Brendon.

          “I’m sorry,” Brendon says quietly, looking at the ground. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, really. I just freak out every time I see you,” he explains, stopping and biting his lip before meeting Ryan’s eyes. “You don’t understand, Ryan. I can’t like guys,” he says almost pleadingly. Ryan scoffs.

          “I understand that more than anyone, Brendon,” he says condescendingly.

          “I just,” Brendon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve never been attracted to a guy.”

          Ryan pauses. “Are you attracted to me?” he asks calmly. Brendon looks at him sheepishly, not giving him an answer, and Ryan is _so_ tired of this gay crisis bullshit.

          “For God’s sake,” he huffs, grabbing Brendon by the arm and yanking him across the hall and into the supply closet, shutting and locking the door behind them. He leads Brendon into the back of the room, behind all the shelves, and Brendon looks wary.

          “What are you-”

          “Shut the fuck up,” Ryan interrupts, pushing Brendon roughly against the wall. Brendon looks kind of scared, like Ryan might hit him. But instead, Ryan moves close to him, into his personal space, placing his hands on the wall on either side of Brendon’s head and staring directly into his eyes. “Are you attracted to me, Brendon?” he asks slowly and suggestively into Brendon’s ear.

          “I. I, um,” Brendon stutters, looking nervous with Ryan pressed up against him.

          “Do you want me?” Ryan asks huskily, having no idea where all this confidence is coming from. Brendon still isn’t answering, seemingly speechless, but now biting his lip. Ryan smoothes his hand down Brendon’s stomach all the way to his belt, quickly undoing it, along with his pants. He can hear Brendon swallow. He unceremoniously shoves his hand in Brendon’s boxers, smirking when he feels him already hard.

          “Seriously, what are you doing?” Brendon whispers gruffly. Ryan doesn’t answer. He know's that he's being a little aggressive, but he would stop if Brendon really seemed to be uncomfortable. So far, he doesn't look like he has any intentions to stop Ryan. Ryan drops to his knees; Brendon stares down at him disbelievingly.

          “I’m tired of this sexuality crisis bullshit,” Ryan repeats his earlier thought. He yanks Brendon’s boxers down and wastes no time in flicking his tongue out against the tip of Brendon's cock, earning a soft sound from the other boy. He keeps eye contact with him while he moves forward, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking. Brendon groans, also not breaking the eye contact. Ryan’s only done this once, but he found out that he has a talent for it. He’s pretty proud.

          His tongue swirls around the tip as he sucks, mostly just teasing. He moves down further, taking in more. He bobs up and down, sliding his hand along with his mouth, and Brendon is practically falling apart above him. If Ryan didn’t know any better, he’d say this is the first blowjob Brendon’s ever had. He pulls off for a second, still lazily stroking with his hand. “You act like you’ve never had a blowjob before,” he says to Brendon teasingly. Brendon shifts his eyes guiltily, and Ryan’s eyes widen. “Seriously?” he asks. Brendon just shrugs, squirming in Ryan’s grasp.

          Ryan smirks and takes Brendon’s cock into his mouth again, sliding his mouth down as far as he can this time, until his cock hits the back of his throat. He’s actually really enjoying this, and he kind of feels like a slut, lapping at the tip of Brendon’s cock like the way you eat an ice cream cone. But it’s worth it to hear Brendon making _those_ noises. Every time Ryan flicks his tongue, Brendon whimpers. Ryan sets up a rhythm, sliding his tongue along the underside on his way down, sucking on the way back up, and Brendon just _keens_.

          “ _Fuck_ , Ryan,” he manages to choke out between unsteady breaths. He goes to knot his fingers in Ryan’s hair, but stops, his hand just resting there, silently asking permission. Ryan bobs off and looks up at Brendon with dark eyes.

          “Go ahead,” he murmurs. “Fucking pull it if you want,” he says roughly, sliding his mouth effortlessly back down Brendon’s shaft, and Brendon moans, obediently tugging Ryan’s soft hair between his fingers and tightening the grip, biting harshly on his lip to keep from being too loud because they _are_ in school.

          Ryan closes his eyes and concentrates on making Brendon feel good. He doesn’t even really know why he’s doing this, or what he thinks it’ll change. Ryan really, honestly feels like a porn star because not only is he sucking Brendon’s cock at an alarmingly fast rate, but he’s also being extremely enthusiastic about it. He hums a little, causing Brendon to jerk and swear under his breath. He really didn’t expect him to last this long, but he can tell he’s getting close because the hand in his hair is tightening more and more, and Ryan loves it.

          “Ryan,” Brendon whimpers, a hint of desperation in his tone. “Um, you need to-” he cuts himself off, trying to pull Ryan’s head back, but Ryan swats at the hand and just keeps sucking. “Oh, fuck,” Brendon moans, his hips involuntarily jerking forward a little. Ryan brings his mouth to the head of Brendon’s cock, sucking on it and sliding his hand quickly along the shaft, now slick from his mouth. Brendon jerks as he comes in Ryan’s mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. Ryan swallows it all with no problem, wiping his mouth and pulling Brendon’s pants back up. He stands up, painfully hard but not worried about that at the moment. He leans in close to Brendon, a predatory gaze in his eyes as Brendon looks back at him in a post-orgasm haze.

  
          “Now don’t fucking tell me you don’t want me,” Ryan whispers in a determined tone. He turns around and walks out.

  


-

          When Ryan walks into the band room that day, Spencer looks at him curiously.

          “Are you okay?” he asks when Ryan sits next to him.

          “I just gave Brendon a blowjob in the supply closet,” Ryan blurts. Spencer face distorts into disgust.

          “Ew, dude, I so did not need to hear that!” he says, looking thoroughly scarred. “But also, what the hell happened?”

          “Well, I kind of cornered him and demanded to know what was going on and he wouldn’t give me a straight answer so I dragged him into a closet and blew him?” he rushes out, an upward inflection at the end of his sentence. Spencer’s face goes from shocked to more shocked.

          “ _Why_?”

          “Well, um. I wanted to make him face the fact that he likes guys,” Ryan mutters. “And I could tell by that kiss, Spence, that he liked it. And he definitely liked what I just did for him,” he adds with a cheeky smile. Spencer shudders.

          “Okay, no more details, please,” Spencer pleads.

          “I hope I didn’t just make things worse,” Ryan worries.

          “I can’t believe you did that at _school_ ,” Spencer says incredulously. 

          “It was really awesome,” Ryan says, grinning stupidly again.

          “But how was it awesome for you? You didn’t get anything out of it,” Spencer scrunches his eyebrows together. Ryan laughs loudly.

          “Oh, Spencer. Your innocence amuses me,” he jokes. “I liked doing it,” Ryan informs him.

  
          “Okay, time to change the subject.”

  


* * *

          “Ryan!” someone calls. Ryan and Spencer turn around from where they’re walking home. Brendon runs up to them, clearing his throat awkwardly. Ryan suddenly feels shy, his face turning red when he remembers what he did earlier.

          “Hey,” he says coolly. Brendon bites his already raw lip and looks up at Ryan.

          “Can I talk to you?” he asks quietly. They both look at Spencer.

          “I can tell when I’m not wanted,” he jokes, giving them a smile and continuing his walk home, leaving an awkward Brendon and a shy Ryan.

          “So?” Ryan asks.

          “So, um. I’m sorry. For acting stupid these past few days. And for running out on you the other day. It’s just- I freaked, okay? I don’t know how to feel about this,” he says tiredly, like he’s already given it a lot of thought.

          “Are you only saying this because I sucked your dick and you think you can get some from me now?” Ryan asks bluntly, and Brendon’s eyes widen.

          “Wh- no!” Brendon denies, shaking his head profusely. “Ryan, no, I swear. I mean, I’ll admit, that’s what made me realize that I, um. That I… _like_ you. I mean, I knew I liked you. But that made me realize that I was being stupid and that I really, really want you,” he finishes, somewhat flustered. Ryan smiles a little despite himself.

          “You’re really cute when you’re frustrated,” Ryan laughs. Brendon seems to relax a bit, allowing himself to smile.

          “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

          “Yeah,” Ryan nods. “But what about your friends? I doubt you’ll be telling them about your… newfound interest,” he articulates, raising a playful eyebrow.

          Brendon shrugs. “I’ll worry about that when I have to. What I really wanted to ask is if you wanna go to the drive-in with me tomorrow after the game,” he says shyly. Ryan’s insides get all warm and fuzzy.

          “The drive-in? You know that’s just an excuse for people to make out in cars,” he teases.

          “Well I happen to be a respectable date,” Brendon argues.

          Ryan scoffs, “Yeah, you were really respectable in that closet today.” Brendon flushes about five different shades of pink.

          “I never had the chance to tell you, by the way, that was- it was pretty much the best thing to ever happen to me - ever, and it was also my first sexual experience, so,” he coughs. Ryan’s smile falls off his face.

          “Fuck, I- I didn’t think. I’m sorry, Bren,” he apologizes. “I probably ruined it for you. I didn’t know-” Ryan is cut off by Brendon’s lips on his, and it’s as perfect as it was a week ago.

          “It was really fucking hot,” he whispers against Ryan’s cheek. “The way you took control like that. It was such a fucking turn on, Ryan.” Ryan smiles, kissing Brendon again and biting on his lip, the one that’s already been bitten raw because of the way Ryan was making him feel. _Ryan_ made him do that. 

          They eventually break apart, breathing hard. “Wanna come to my place?” Brendon asks.

  
          “Yeah,” Ryan smiles. “I’ve been wanting to see it anyway.”

  


-

          “Wow,” Ryan says, impressed. Brendon’s house is that really, really nice one that’s on his road that he’s always wondered about who lived there. It’s brick, but the dark colored, stone-like bricks. It has two stories and a million rooms. Brendon leads Ryan to his bedroom, which is in the basement. Which is soundproof. Ryan likes that little fact.

          Brendon’s room is simple enough, except for the keyboard and three guitars lying around. Ryan has a guitar, but he’s usually too busy with band to play it much.

          “I didn’t know you could play,” he says, gesturing to the instruments.

          “Yeah,” Brendon shrugs sheepishly.

          “Play me something,” Ryan suddenly demands, pointing at the keyboard. Brendon seems hesitant but takes a seat on the little bench, patting the other side for Ryan to sit on. Once he does, Brendon places his fingers on the keys and starts to play. He’s good. Really good. Ryan is almost positive that the song he’s playing is an original one, and it’s beautiful. He watches Brendon’s fingers gliding gracefully across the keys, mesmerized.

          “Brendon,” Ryan breathes. “You’re amazing.” He’s not just talking about the piano playing either. Brendon stops playing and looks over at him.

          “You know, I think I could fall in love with you, Ryan Ross,” he says softly.

  
          Ryan decides right then and there that he is going to make Brendon Urie his forever.

  


* * *

          “Ow, you elbowed me.”

          “Well maybe if you moved your foot.”

          “Just, here- yeah, like that. That’s better,” Ryan says, lying down in Brendon’s backseat with Brendon on top of him. They’re at the drive-in, and like Ryan predicted, all they’ve done is made out. Brendon’s car isn’t even _on_. They only hear the movie from everyone else’s radios.

          “Hey,” Brendon says breathily. Ryan hums against his neck. “I want to, um. What you did for me yesterday. I want to.” Ryan stops and looks up at him.

          “What, now? _Here_?” he asks dubiously. Brendon nods, grinning.

          “My windows are tinted, it’s dark, it’s loud. Nobody will know,” he whispers, his deep voice sounding so sexy that Ryan shudders. He can’t help it. He bites his lip with want, nodding fast while Brendon starts to undo Ryan’s pants.

          “It’s probably going to be bad. Because you know, I’ve never done anything. But maybe I’ll get better eventually, you know if-” Ryan clamps a hand over Brendon’s mouth, stopping his rambling.

          “Brendon, shut up and kiss me now,” he breathes. Brendon happily obliges, leaning down to catch Ryan’s lips with his. Ryan successfully slides his tongue into Brendon’s mouth, causing Brendon to jump. Ryan giggles and pulls away.

          “You know, I figured that since you’re the captain of the football team and all that you’d be experienced, but you’re like, virgin _everything_. You aren’t even used to having someone’s tongue in your mouth,” he laughs. Brendon swats at his arm, pouting.

          “Try it again,” he urges, and Ryan smiles, leaning forward and licking his way into Brendon’s mouth again. He’s completely taken by surprise when Brendon starts sucking on his tongue, which is why an unexpected moan escapes him.

          “Mmm, I think I like your tongue being in my mouth, as weird as the thought of it is,” Brendon muses. Ryan lets out another helpless giggle, smiling adoringly up at Brendon.

          “You’re really adorable,” he informs him. Brendon smiles before remembering what he wanted to do in the first place, trailing his hand down Ryan’s leg and back up again, stopping on his halfway undone pants.

          “You know you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to,” he whispers to Brendon.

          “Trust me, I want to,” he replies, before leaning down next to Ryan’s ear. “I wanna know what you taste like,” he murmurs seductively, and Ryan could almost come in his pants just from hearing that.

          Brendon tugs Ryan’s pants down halfway before leaning down and mouthing at his boxers, where he’s already half-hard. Ryan’s breath hitches just a bit, surprised that Brendon is so confident.

          “So, do I just…?” Brendon trails off, looking up at Ryan with those big eyes.

          “Just- start out small, get used to it. Don’t try to take it all at once, or you’ll choke yourself,” he laughs. Brendon bites down on his lip, going from innocent to sexy and determined in a matter of seconds. He pulls down Ryan’s boxers, and Ryan wills himself not to be too self-conscious, being exposed like this.

          Brendon licks tentatively at the head a few times, Ryan biting his lip harder each time.

          He seems to grow more confident, putting his mouth around Ryan’s cock and sucking experimentally. Ryan makes a lusty ‘oh’ sound, because Brendon’s lips were clearly _made_ for this. He sucks harder, taking a little more and wrapping his hand around the base. Ryan feels so nervous doing this in public again, but it makes it _so much hotter_. 

          Brendon hums _very_ enthusiastically around Ryan’s cock, causing Ryan to let out a slight moan.

          Brendon bobs up and down as fast as he can manage, sometimes gagging a little when he goes down too far. He removes his mouth, earning a whimper from Ryan, to murmur, “Am I doing it right?” Ryan tangles a hand in Brendon’s hair, stroking one finger down the side of his face.

          “You’re doing great,” he replies breathlessly. Brendon smiles, going back down on him and _really_ sucking hard this time. Ryan honestly didn’t expect him to be this good the first time. It takes all the strength he has to keep from thrusting up into the wet, perfect heat of Brendon’s mouth. Brendon rubs his tongue along the tip of Ryan’s cock, circling it _just right_.

          “Oh, God,” Ryan moans, holding onto Brendon’s hair, trying not to pull too hard. “Just like that,” he mumbles almost incoherently. “Fuck, yeah, just like that, baby,” he moans. Brendon takes him deeper, feeling accomplished, and Ryan starts desperately tugging on his hair, trying to somehow warn him because he can’t get any words out of his mouth besides, ‘ _yeah_ ,’ and ‘ _fuck_.’ Brendon pulls off just as Ryan comes, some of it getting in his mouth. He wraps his hand around Ryan’s cock, and Ryan thrusts up into his fist slowly, riding out his orgasm. Brendon is staring in awe, watching Ryan’s face screw up with pleasure, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes shut tight. Ryan stops, breathing hard, and takes one look at Brendon’s eager face before pulling him up and kissing him hard and deep, probably the most passion he’s ever put into a kiss, but Brendon fucking _deserves_ it.

          When he pulls back, Brendon smiles this soft, small smile that makes Ryan want to just _hold_ him. “That wasn’t too bad,” Brendon laughs.

          “I loved doing it for you. I kind of felt like a slut,” Ryan giggles.

          “I have a slut for a boyfriend,” Brendon laughs, then stops when he realizes what he said. Boyfriend. “I mean- um.” 

          “Well…is that what you want?” Ryan asks, almost afraid of the answer. Brendon considers it for a minute, glancing nervously between his hands and Ryan.

          “Kind of,” he whispers. “But I’m scared.” Ryan pulls his pants back up and then takes Brendon’s hand, rubbing it against his own cheek.

          “Don’t be scared. I’m right here,” he smiles softly. Brendon immediately smiles back.

          “I want you, I really do. But if I’m not immediately ready to tell everyone, you have to be okay with that,” he insists. Ryan pulls Brendon close to him, nuzzling his neck.

          “I understand. You’re not ready for everyone to know.”

          “So, you still want to be with me even if it’s a secret?” Brendon worries.

          “Well, as long as I get to call you my boyfriend,” Ryan smiles, then adds, “And as long as I can tell Spence.” Brendon hesitates at that. “He’s my best friend, Bren. He won’t say a word. Plus, he really likes you.”

  
          Brendon lingers for a moment longer. “Deal,” he finally smiles. Ryan grins, meeting him for a soft kiss and thinking that he’s never been happier.

  


* * *

          “No way,” Spencer says, a huge grin forming on his face. 

          “Yep,” Ryan beams. “It’s official. We’re together. But you can’t tell anyone, Spence, I’m serious,” he says, well, seriously.

          “Of course not,” Spencer agrees. “I’m just really happy for you,” he laughs somewhat dazedly. “Wow. Brendon Urie, of all people,” he shakes his head. They make their way toward the band room, laughing and chatting along the way. When they open the door, they’re shocked to see that not only are Pete and Patrick both in there, but they’re _making out_ against the wall. Ryan’s mouth drops open and he hears Spencer’s disbelieving laugh from beside him. Patrick’s head snaps up, his gaze focusing on the two and his face going pink. Pete is just staring at Patrick with heart eyes, not concerned in the least about their little audience.

          “Um, let’s go in here,” Patrick mumbles to Pete, pulling him into an empty room and shutting the door, the click of the lock being heard a second later.

  
          Ryan and Spencer burst into laugher.

  


* * *

          Ryan sits in the bleachers watching his boyfriend - he nearly squeals at just the thought of it - on the field below. It’s the last game of the championship, and Brendon was really excited for it. They rode together here and made out in Brendon’s car for a good ten minutes before he got paranoid that someone would walk by and see. One week of them being officially together and Ryan feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. It’s weird to think that a month ago he was sitting in this same spot and thinking about how much he hated Brendon Urie, and now he’s dating him.

          Brendon makes a touchdown and Ryan jumps up and cheers for him. He has to admit, the games are much more fun when he has a reason to watch them. Spencer laughs beside him, but cheers as well. Ryan wraps his scarf tighter around his neck- it’s ridiculously cold out, and his fingerless gloves don’t really help much, as Spencer so graciously pointed out.

          Their team actually ends up winning the championship, which Ryan didn’t really expect, but he’s happy for Brendon nonetheless. He runs down the bleachers, Spencer on his tail, and waits for Brendon by the fence. When he walks out, he has a huge grin on his face, his features lighting up even more when his eyes land on Ryan.

          “Congratulations!” Ryan yells, smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. “You did so great,” he praises. Before Ryan knows what’s happening, he’s being pulled in for a crushing hug and there are lips on his. He’s completely shocked, because Brendon just said a week ago that he wasn’t ready for people to know. They still have a whole semester of school left to get through. But that’s definitely Brendon holding him tight and moving his warm, soft lips against Ryan’s. Ryan can hear Spencer’s shocked laugh from behind him, as well as a few gasps and catcalls, and he really just doesn’t _care_ because Brendon is kissing him like he’s the only thing in the world, and that’s really the best feeling.

          They pull back after what seems like an eternity, smiling stupidly at each other and not paying any attention whatsoever to the shocked looks Brendon’s teammates are sending them.

          Brendon grabs Ryan’s hand, pulling him through the crowd of football players, yelling, “I like boys and Ryan Ross is my boyfriend so fuck you guys.” Nobody says a word as they make their way out to the parking lot. They stop, leaning against Brendon’s car, and Ryan is _so_ happy.

          “You’re crazy, you know that?” he says, affectionately nuzzling Brendon’s neck like he likes to do, placing small kisses and bites here and there. “But I kind of don’t know what I’d do without you,” Ryan says. Brendon trails a finger down Ryan’s face, kissing him softly on the lips.

  
          “Yeah, I think I could definitely fall in love with you.”

**End.**

  


**Author's Note:**

> *Edit 4/23/2017  
> As I stated in the author's note at the beginning, I've been considering a sequel to this story. To anyone who might read this, please let me know if you'd be interested in that! All comments are appreciated.


End file.
